What Miranda Wants
by Rae D. Magdon
Summary: Miranda always gets what she wants... until the day she doesn't, and realizes just how much she took for granted. Inspired by a prompt on the Mass Effect Kink Meme asking for Jack/Miranda fluff and romance.


**Pairing:** Jack/Miranda (FemShep/Liara)

**Spoilers: **ME2 and ME3

**AN:** Filled this prompt on the Mass Effect Kink Meme. _"A'ight, so we (almost) always see Jack/Miranda being this rough, intense, kinda non-con but then con, hate sex. Well, I want something else. After the Reapers are defeated through whatever means, maybe it's their first date, maybe they already have an established relationship, maybe it's a one-night stand, whatever. I just want them being fluffy with each other." Bonus Points if Miranda says she likes Jack's hair at some point._

**...**

**What Miranda Wants**

**...**

Miranda was used to getting what she wanted.

Money? No problem. Between her substantial Cerberus paycheck and the credits she had stolen from her father before running away, she had a small fortune. It helped that she often came across insider information during her missions, which led to lucrative investments.

Looks? She had those, too, along with superior genetics. If the doctors were correct, she would live to be two hundred and twenty five, half a lifespan longer than most other humans, and her attractiveness would be slow to fade.

Power? Power always seemed to find her. First, she had used her father's influence to get what she wanted. Then, The Illusive Man. Now, Commander Shepard. Her money and her looks didn't hurt, either.

Sex? Miranda wasn't exactly promiscuous, but she could and did have her pick of sexual partners. Once she extended an offer, no one ever turned her down. Except Shepard, but she hadn't known about the Commander's preference for asari – well, one particular asari – at the time. She didn't mind being duplicitous in other areas of her life, but she tended to avoid sleeping with people that were spoken for. Her chosen career was difficult and dangerous enough as it was, she didn't need to go looking for extra excitement that way.

Even Jack had been helpless to resist. The biotic had convinced herself that she was the one dominating Miranda, that just because she got to be on top the majority of the time meant that she was in control. But it wasn't like that at all. Even after they fought, so bitterly that they had stopped talking to each other until they were about to leap through the Omega 4 Relay, the sex didn't stop. Miranda was no mind reader, but she could sense Jack hated herself for it.

And then there finally came a day when Miranda didn't get what she wanted at all.

The Suicide Squad fell apart. When Shepard returned to Earth to stand trial, one by one, they left, some more reluctantly than others.

Kasumi disappeared first, probably to begin her next big heist. Zaeed continued his hunt for Vido, rejecting a job from Cerberus and going out of his way to make The Illusive Man's life miserable. Samara resumed her Justicar duties, Tali returned to the Migrant Fleet after the Alliance made it clear that Shepard was not allowed to receive any visitors, and Garrus, with great reluctance, boarded a ship to Palaven. Grunt asked to be dropped off on Tuchanka to help Urdnot Wrex. She had no idea where Mordin, Legion, and Thane were, and didn't particularly care.

But Jack... she hadn't expected it to hurt when Jack left. Even though they had kissed and made up, so to speak, and put aside their differences, she hadn't given Miranda any sort of goodbye. Not even a, "hey, thanks for the sex. See you around, Cerberus."

Miranda hated being associated with Cerberus. Apparently, Jack had been right about them after all, as distasteful as that fact was to admit. She didn't even bother tendering her own resignation. She simply stopped taking the Illusive Man's calls. But part of her missed the nickname, simply because it reminded her of Jack.

As she moved from hiding place to hiding place, biding her time and waiting for Shepard to be released from Alliance custody, she kept an eye on Jack's movements. She intercepted some transmissions detailing Jack's new employment at Grissom Academy. Being acquaintances with the Shadow Broker had its benefits. It usually took Liara some time to get back to her – she claimed she was busy with something important related to the Protheans – but she always did. And Miranda wasn't without her own resources.

For the first time in her life, Miranda realized how much she had taken for granted. Her money wasn't gone, but it was much more difficult to access without giving away her location. She knew for a fact that the Illusive Man was interested in her whereabouts, and the Alliance had an unofficial bounty on her head. Her looks didn't do her any good. If anything, she needed to remain out of the public view most of the time. Without her father or the Illusive Man to back her plays, and with Shepard awaiting trial, she felt more powerless than she ever had before. And sex was a thing of the past.

At first, she missed the orgasms. Jack had been good at giving her those. Freakishly good. There was nothing better than two powerful biotics in bed, as she suspected Shepard knew, damn her. Then she missed the closeness. Simply having someone to talk to, even if they didn't exactly like her.

Then, she realized that she was lonely. Not just lonely because she was alone, but because she actually cared about someone other than herself and couldn't see them or talk to them. She missed Jack. Shepard. Even that lunkhead Jacob, who was off doing God knew what with some Cerberus refugees the last time they had communicated.

Miranda had never had anyone to miss before.

When the Reapers invaded, everything changed. Despite the horror stories flooding in from survivors of Earth and Palaven, there was one bright spot. Shepard was back. Things were moving again.

It annoyed Miranda that, as she investigated the rumors of her father's horrible, unspeakable experiments on Sanctuary, she couldn't fully focus on the task before her. Without being prompted, Liara sent her information on Jack's movements. She had escaped Grissom with her students, thanks to Shepard.

Then came the news that Jack was on the Citadel. Within reach for the first time in half a year. The last time they had been so close, Miranda's head had been buried between Jack's thighs.

Miranda had watched her from a distance. She was good, but Jack wasn't stupid. She knew she was being observed, and probably by whom. Sometimes, Miranda wondered if she had let Jack catch a glimpse on purpose. Even that small connection was better than nothing.

Once, Jack nearly caught up with her. Miranda had cloaked herself just in time, silently thanking Kasumi for the tech upgrade. But Jack spoke, as if she knew Miranda could hear. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye. You were a bitch, but not that much of a bitch. Maybe, when this is over..."

_Maybe, when this is over..._

Those were the words that echoed in her head when her father pressed a gun to Oriana's temple. And when Shepard killed him. She needed to survive, goddamnit, because Jack had said... maybe...

She wanted to accompany Shepard to Cronos Station. Wanted to wipe the smug grin off the Illusive Man's smarmy face. This was all his fault, really. Mostly. Or maybe it was her fault. But Shepard had a new squad, and she wasn't a part of it this time.

Instead, Miranda headed to Earth. Earth, where Jack and her students were. She remained on one of the large Alliance ships orbiting the planet – apparently, Shepard had more pull than she realized, because they didn't immediately arrest her. There was no sign of Jack, and she couldn't quite bring herself to look._Maybe, when this is over..._

It ended faster than she had anticipated. She even got the chance to say goodbye over the vidcom link, although Shepard refused to admit that it was a farewell. Really, she had no idea how that damn crazy woman kept defeating impossible odds, but somehow, she came through one last time. The Reapers were destroyed in a pulse of bright red light.

When the news came that Shepard had survived – barely – Miranda sprang into action. She handed over all the data she had concerning the Lazarus project. In some ways, the damage was worse this time. Her synthetic parts were blown to hell, and her body had nearly stopped. Her organic parts, aside from major blood loss, were not too badly off. Somehow, they cobbled her back together.

Slowly, they started to rebuild. New buildings were erected. Refugee camps were organized. Real ones this time, not like Sanctuary. For the first time since the defeat of the Collectors, Miranda felt like she was a part of something greater than herself, something good.

The first time she saw Jack again, it was a shock. She happened to be exiting the makeshift Alliance hospital at the same time Miranda was entering. They stopped short, eyes locked, silence stretching between them.

"I like your hair," Miranda blurted out. Even though she had seen Jack's new, slightly more demure (but not by much) hairstyle on the Citadel, she had not really gotten the chance to appreciate it until now.

"Uh... thanks?"

Miranda had never been so uncomfortable and so unhappy since the last time she was on the Normandy. "Drinks?" she asked.

"Bed?" Typical Jack.

"Both. We need it." Miranda had no idea whether she was referring to the drinks or the sex. Probably both.

Dinner had its share of awkward moments. Most of the fine dining establishments on Earth were gone. They made do with the rations Miranda had in her small, dingy apartment. It was only two rooms, a studio and bath, but better by far than the living conditions of the majority. The credit system was completely offline, and the only reason she had a place to sleep at all was because of the information and work she had pledged to the Alliance. Apparently, even while unconscious and hanging on to life by a thread, Shepard had influence.

"This is the only bottle I have now," Miranda confessed sadly as she poured a glass of brandy for each of them. In the crude barter system that had arisen during the reconstruction, any alcohol was a luxury.

"Doesn't feel like it's over yet, does it?" Jack asked, staring into her glass so that she wouldn't have to meet Miranda's eyes. "We're all stuck here with practically nothing..."

Miranda raised her own brandy, but didn't drink. "I heard about your students... that some of them didn't make it. For what it's worth, I'm sorry." There was a flash of pain in Jack's eyes, and then her eyebrows lifted as she tried to figure out how Miranda knew about her students. "Don't look so surprised. I kept tabs on you after you left."

The heavily tattooed woman smirked and crossed her arms. "You're not going sentimental on me, are you, Cheerleader?"

Miranda might have taken offense to that comment in the past, but not anymore. She had been alone and friendless long enough to admit that it didn't suit her. Things had changed. She had changed. The ex-Cerberus operative just hoped that she had changed enough...

"How many others did you keep tabs on?" she asked. Miranda's silence acted as her answer. "So I'm special, huh?"

"No. Just annoying. You're like a bad song that gets stuck in your head until you start to like it in some perverse twist of fate."

Jack could tell that Miranda was kidding, and so she laughed and lifted her glass. "Bottoms up."

"As Tali would say, Keelah Se'lai."

After both glasses were empty, Jack drummed her fingers on the tabletop anxiously. "Is this the part where we screw for old time's sake?" she asked, not meeting Miranda's eyes. It took her a moment to realize it, but Miranda finally figured out that Jack – confident, proud, take-shit-from-nobody Jack – was nervous. Nervous of her. Maybe she wasn't as pathetic as she thought. Either way, it was nice to know she wasn't completely alone in this. If she was going to be crazy, Miranda decided, better they were crazy together.

"No."

Miranda stood up, walking around the table and kneeling on the floor beside Jack's chair. The other woman's hands were the same as she remembered. The calluses, the strength, even the softness was still there when she held them.

"This is the part where I tell you I missed you..."

Jack stared down at her, eyes unreadable.

"Where I tell you I'm sorry for calling you a mistake."

The corner of Jack's mouth twitched. She had never gotten a straight apology from Miranda, just more of the same angry sex and, eventually, an awkward sort of truce where they both agreed to ignore that particular conversation.

"And where I ask you to kiss me, carry me to that bed over there, and make love to me. Because even though it doesn't make sense, that's what I want, and I'm woman enough to admit it now."

Jack stood up, and for a moment, Miranda was terrified that she was going to leave. But then she bent down and used her grip on Miranda's hands to pull the other woman back onto her feet. "You always get what you want, don't you, Miranda?" Jack asked, her voice surprisingly soft.

Miranda was about to say 'not always', but then Jack's full lips brushed against hers, and she felt herself melting away. Normally, Jack's kisses were rough, violent, but not this one. Miranda hadn't even known that Jack could kiss like this. Before she realized what was happening, her hands were running through Jack's new hair and along the close-cropped sides of her head, and Jack's hands had settled around her hips.

_'You always get what you want, don't you, Miranda?'_

_'Maybe, when this is over...'_

Miranda gasped as Jack used her biotics to lift her up in the air and carry her several feet over to the bed. One advantage of having such a small apartment, Miranda thought wryly. Jack wasted no time shedding her clothes and joining her on the mattress.

And then, as usual, Miranda got what she wanted. But this time, it meant something.


End file.
